Returning to the plant, Bishop circled slowly and quietly around to the front. Other than making sure anyone standing inside the store couldn’t see him, he hadn’t paid much attention to it. Southwick Family Egg Ranch was painted in cheerful colors on the large front window, but it was dark inside and, Bishop supposed, empty.

He got the knife out of the bag he carried and set the bag aside. He hoped to determine where Emmett was and what he was doing, but after he got halfway to the store he decided not to go any closer. It was too easy to see out and too difficult to see in.

After pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he dialed Emmett’s number. He didn’t plan to speak if Emmett answered; he just wanted to wake him so that he would have better luck luring him to the henhouse.

Except Emmett didn’t pick up.

Bishop could hear his phone ringing.…

The weird thing was … the sound was coming from only fifteen feet or so away. How could that be?

The unanswered call went to Emmett’s voicemail, so Bishop hung up and waited some more. If Emmett was outside and near the store, what was he doing? Was he on to Bishop? Had he heard about Terry and found it suspicious?

Maybe Emmett was planning to kill Bishop and was waiting and watching.

No. He would’ve silenced his phone, wouldn’t have let it give him away as it had just done.

Bishop waited, listening for footsteps or movement, but heard nothing. Finally, he grew so curious he couldn’t stop himself from creeping up to where he’d heard the ring—and nearly stumbled on Emmett, who was lying partly in the weeds and partly on the sidewalk outside the store, staring straight up, in full rigor mortis.

“Well, well, well!” he said. “What happened here?”

Emmett had obviously been hurt. There was blood everywhere.

He knelt to take a look at the wound in his neck. It appeared as though he’d been stabbed. But … by whom?

Lyman saw no one else, heard no sound except the flies buzzing around the body. The trail of blood that came from the store seemed to tell a story, however. Had Emmett attacked Evelyn—who then retaliated?

If so, how had she overcome such a big, strong man?

Bishop didn’t care that she’d killed Emmett. She’d done him a favor there. But, terrified she’d gotten away, he gripped his chest as his heart began to pound. Damn her! What would he do if she was gone?

He pushed on the door to the store. It was unlocked.

A thick layer of dust covered the counters and the shelves, and the sales register had been removed, leaving a gaping hole in the wooden counter where it had been bolted down. He had to wade through the cardboard, busted egg crates, cans, fast-food wrappers and other garbage that littered the floor in order to get to the back, but he had no trouble finding the cooler. A trail of blood led him right to it.